Snow Day Egg Sandwiches

A few years ago Jim and I set out to build a chicken house together. The house is designed to be mobile. Since our chickens have free range of the yard and garden, the house remains stationary (far too close to the house, and I find it worrisome that I no longer can tell whether or not it smells bad [it does]).

I have seven hens and one docile rooster, and we collect from them around a dozen to a dozen and a half eggs a week – more than enough for two people. Kramer thinks it is fun to make the chickens scatter, and Chunk is so afraid of them that he will run to the other side of the house to enter a door they are not standing near. I learned to plant decoy lettuce, so they would leave my garden greens alone. They have completely destroyed an entire section of my yard, and I find I care very little.

I never really appreciated how delicious eggs could be until I started keeping chickens. I love eggs as much as Frank in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Maybe more.

I want to talk about egg sandwiches. Few things are as simple or as satisfying. I have many versions, but this one is as basic as it gets. I’m also going to give you a recipe for a basic beer bread that will form the base of this recipe. Today is a snow day, and I’m watching The Goonies. That means I’m going to bake something.

Basic Beer Bread

Sift together 3 cups of flour, 3 teaspoons of baking powder, 1 teaspoon of salt, and 1/4 cup sugar. (I’m not going to lie. When I read “sift,” I almost always just mix the ingredients with a fork, because I am lazy and it is satisfactory.) Pour in a can (12 oz.) of beer. Just use something lighter – like a Kölsch or a wheat beer or, honestly, a Stag.

Put it in a greased and floured loaf pan, and pour 1/2 cup melted butter on top. (This is a lot, and using less is fine. The butter just makes the top super-crunchy.) Bake in the oven at 375° F. Bake until the middle is brown and feels firm, about one hour.

You can do pretty much anything with this recipe. Add garlic and cheddar. Or onions and gruyere. I don’t care. Live your life.

Open-Faced Egg Sandwich

Hard-boil four eggs. (Guys. Put them in a pot and cover them with water. Bring them to a boil. When they reach a boil, let them get after it for seven minutes. Then put them in an ice bath. If you’re having trouble taking the shells off, it’s not anything you did. Vinegar in the water is a lie. Eggs that are older are easy to peel. So save hard-boiled eggs for when you need to use up a carton of eggs.)

Mix in three tablespoons of Greek yogurt. Put in some salt, cracked pepper, and whatever herbs you have on hand. I had thyme. I threw some serrano peppers on top, because give! me! the! heat!

Put it on a slice of beer bread or whatever bread you have on hand. (Sourdough is my go-to bread, and I am deep in the throes of research on sourdough starter and care.)

Eat it immediately after dinner. Make eye contact with the person across from you. Don’t speak. Don’t blink. Do that thing where you eat so quickly that you have to to take deep, slobbery breaths in between bites.